One day, years ago, Dr. Ink, a funky white guy, was teaching in a seminar when an African-American professor from Tennessee criticized him quite harshly. This hurt Doc’s feelings. But then the professor proceeded to slam Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and Doc realized he was in good company. He suddenly felt a lot better.
This memory was inspired by the recent criticism by some black leaders of a scene in the hit movie “Barbershop.” In the scene, a group of black men gather around their barber, played by Cedric the Entertainer. Within the freedom of his shop, he gathers up the bravado to smash some African-American icons. He argues that Rodney King deserved to get beaten, and that O.J. was guilty of murder. He swears at Jesse Jackson, goes after Dr. King for his womanizing, and belittles Rosa Parks for doing nothing more than sitting down on a bus.
In the movie, his perspective is immediately challenged: “Eddie, not only is what you’re saying not true, it is wrong and disrespectful for you to discuss Rosa Parks in that way.”
This internal correction is not enough for the Rev. Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson. There has been talk of a boycott and demands that the scene be deleted from the DVD version of the movie.
Doc does not have a dog in this fight. He respects the critics who want to preserve the heritage of America’s black cultural heroes. But he also is down with a movie sentiment expressed by the barber: “Is this a barbershop? If we can’t talk straight in the barbershop, then where can we talk straight? … You know this ain’t nothing but healthy conversation. Ain’t nobody exempt in the barbershop. You can talk about whoever, and whatever, whenever you want.”
In fact, Dr. Ink feels a little uncomfortable listening in on this debate. It’s like being invited by a great family to spend the night at their great house and then finding yourself overhearing a heated family squabble. There is a long cultural tradition, as Doc understands it, that inhibits black Americans from airing their “dirty laundry.” White folks do enough of that for them, so a solidarity based on containment usually wins out.
That may be changing. Debates the best electric shaver, such as the one over “Barbershop,” are learning opportunities for journalists, who must be constantly reminded of the power of “sub-cultural diversity.” Almost any Spike Lee movie will drive the point home. The realization that no community is monolithic, that no one leader speaks for everyone, will help journalists avoid stereotypes and clichés of vision.
And Doc wonders: What happens when a white guy visits the black barbershop? Does the nature of the conversation change? Can such a place become a listening post where any reporter can gain important insights into marginalized and overlooked communities?
Better to overhear than to overlook.
